Lindos town poses a postcard perfect opposite to the battered down part of southern Rhodes. The old town below the towering acropolis on top of the mountain, really takes you back to ancient Greece. Stepping into the city, however, bursts your bubble as the city is now thriving on – especially russian – tourism with little shops offering juices, beverages, food, t-shirts, figurines and every other imaginable piece of tourist crap (oh yes, and crêpes, too) you can imagine. Sparking white – almost painful to your eyes – and pretty is the city, but it looses its virginity, because of the prostitution going on below the roof tops.
We tried to make our way up to the citadel, something I had really looked forward to, but we got lost inside the labyrinthian streets of the city. Having wandered about for close to 20 minutes, dodging hounding restaurant hailers on more than a handful of occations, we stopped by a taverna and asked for directions. “As long as you go up, you are on the right way”. Wauw, thank you, kind sir, as if we had not figured that out already. He may have sensed our dismay with the arrogant answer, as he finished of by pointing us in the right directions.
Now, I con’t know if this is good or bad, but we ended up on the donkey road. Not too many stairs, but instead hundreds of meters of slippery, worn down rocks. We finally made it to the entrance to the bastion, but alas! An hour too late! During this time of year, the acropolis is only open for visitors from 8 to 14:40! Having cursed this for a bit, we decided to enjoy the tourture of wandering back into the city to stock up on carbon hydrates and then head for the car. On the way, we passed by a small chapel, where a wedding in the process. At first, it seemed really romantic, with the chapel overlooking the bay, but taking a second look, revealed that the setting behind the chapel was more that of a dump than that of a beach. We stopped by a crêperie, had crêpes and fresh, homemade orangejuice, before heading back for the car.